Hero in a Sweater Vest
by MPangeaCT
Summary: His parents murdered when he was young, Alfred is now a seventeen year old with a slight hero complex. When the serial killer who murdered his parents strikes again, his life is thrown into chaos. Suddenly he meets a young man with a captivating accent who's determined to protect him. As the days go by, he finds he might just be falling for the man. USUK Yaoi. Don't like don't read
1. How it all began

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any countries all rights and stuff go to their creator, I only own the plot and some OCs. I make no money from this and whatever else you're supposed to put in a disclaimer.**

**Warning: This story is yaoi (boy love) so if you don't like it, don't read it. Honestly, I shouldn't even have to say this, people should know that if the two characters listed are both men, and it's a **_**Hetalia **_**fanfiction then it's probably going to be a love story between two men. There will be lemons and limes later on, I've never written one before but there will be one… or two… maybe more… probably… maybe… definitely…**

**You know the saying… when life gives you lemons, show them to your readers and others and laugh as you watch while they get all hot and bothered.**

**AN: Hello fine readers, this is just a frigging bunny that popped into my head one day in science (I know, why science?) and wouldn't leave me alone. This is a USUK fic and my first ever fanfiction so I would dearly appreciate reviews, comments, concerns, questions, feedback, etc. Also, I can't promise good spelling, grammar, frequent updates, or… other stuff, but please put up with me? Thanks! **

**^ ^ (O.O) it's a Totoro, panda thing with floating ears…lol.**

**PS: Please no flames! Flamers will either be ignored, have their spines ripped out of their noses, or have their homework and big projects burned the day before it's due. I like watching paper and cardboard burn! MWA HAHAHA!**

**Note on chapter: This chapter is both the prologue and the first chapter cuzz I don't like it when people say for example, that you're reading chapter 12 when it's actually chapter 13 or something like that.**

It was the darkest hour of the night. The city was quiet and only the occasional car drove through the streets. One boy was awake though: ten year-old Alfred F. Jones.

He sat in his dark closet, clutching tightly to a gray stuffed bunny and a softly glowing battery-powered night light. It was one of the ones that had all the soft plastic bristles that glowed at the tips, changing colors hypnotically.

The boy's shaking had stopped long ago, but his tears and pain endured. He rocked back and forth, even though each rock sent a jolt of pain through his body. Alfred just couldn't seem to stop his body.

Eventually, morning came. The sounds of life reached his ears and light shone through the cracks around his closet doors. He didn't leave the closet.

If Alfred were to leave his own dark little world, he would be reminded of what had happened. He would once again be given the proof that he was all alone.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because when he woke up, he realized two things. One, his nightlight had gone out, and two, if he didn't use the toilet soon, his bladder would burst.

Thankful that he had a bathroom in his room, Alfred rushed to pee. He also grabbed a long drink from the sink; all the while avoiding his reflection in the mirror.

If he had looked, he would have seen the dark circles under his eyes, the bruised cheeks, and bloody gash on his forehead and all manner of other injuries scattered across his body.

Alfred was one of those bows who were a boy scouts without the badges, he always made sure that his room was stocked with batteries, candles, flashlights, blankets etc. he grabbed a few of the blankest and a pack of batteries before once again closing himself into the safety of his closet.

Hunger pains wracked Alfred's body and he regretted not storing food in his room. His mother had told him to keep the food in the kitchen, else it attract ants. He would have gone down to the kitchen, but that would mean leaving his room. His sanctuary.

It was three more days before anything happened. In that time Alfred stayed in his closet, trying not to think. He slept, but only when his body could bear to be awake no longer. The only times he left his dark little room within a room was when he went to the bathroom. Other than relieving himself, Alfred sipped water from the sink and brushed his teeth. The everyday routine action made him feel better. It gave his life some semblance of normalcy.

It was after the third day, around eight o'clock at night when they came. Alfred jolted awake when he heard a knock on the front door. He hadn't even realized that he'd fallen asleep.

Everything was silent for a time while Alfred waited with bated breath, his ears pricked, searching for anymore noise. Then he heard it again, louder this time. As well as a shout of, "open up!"

Alfred huddled deeper into his nest of blankets; clicking off the glowing light in his hand.

A loud crash shook the house and the small boy whimpered. He could hear muffled shouts and words from the intruders. Footsteps heading up the stairs and stopping outside his room caught Alfred's attention. His eyes franticly scanned the closet doors to make sure they were tightly closed.

The door to his room opened and Alfred held his breathe. He heard whoever had entered move around. There was a loud staticy voice that filled his room, saying things that Alfred couldn't quite make out.

"There's no one up here chief, but apparently, the Jones' had a kid. This is a little boy's room up here," a deep voice startled Alfred. More static and then, "okay, I'm on my way." He heard the man's footsteps retreating and then—

*_cough cough_*

Alfred couldn't help it; his cough had gotten the better of him. It had been relatively quiet and he hoped the man hadn't heard it. No such luck though, as Alfred heard the man in his room approach his closet. Slowly, the door opened and a man peered in.

His hair was dirty blonde and his eyes a light brown. He looked to be in his late twenties and had a kind looking face. Slowly so as not to startle Alfred, he reached down and grabbed his walkie talkie and brought it up to his mouth.

"Uh… chief… we've got a situation," he spoke into the device.

"And what, pray tell, is the situation agent?" snapped a female voice from the walkie talkie.

"Well, I've got the Jones' kid here."

"What's the condition of the body?"

"Alive," silence was the response. "Yeah, the boy's alive."

"Well agent, you know what to do I assume," came the response.

The man put away his radio and looked to Alfred. He wore a smile that eased Alfred's fears a bit. He reached out to the boy saying, "come with me, its okay, you're safe now."

Alfred stood but refused the man's hand. "My name is Evan Waters; you can call me Evan, or agent or Mr. Waters. Or whatever you want is okay too," Evan said. "What's your name?" Alfred didn't answer.

"That's okay, you don't have to talk to me but will you come with me?" he motioned to the door. He watched with confusion as the little boy shook his head and drew back.

"Why won't you leave your room?" a small furrow formed between his brows as he frowned.

"…"

"Hmm. Okay well, you need to come with me, so either you're going to walk out of here by yourself, or, I could take you by force." When Alfred shook his head once again, Evan sprung at him and snatched the boy up into his arms. Alfred's blue eyes widened comically as he tried to squirm out of the agent's arms.

Had the man not been training his body for nearly a decade, Alfred would have surely gotten away. As it was, Evan was having quite a bit of trouble restraining the kid. With the struggling child in his arms, Agent Waters exited the room and carried the boy precariously down the stairs, having to right himself multiple times when the thrashing boy threw him off balance. Suddenly, the little Jones junior (he didn't know the kid's name okay? and he was tired of referring to the boy as 'kid') stiffened in his arms, tremors wracking the small frame. Jones junior clung to the man's neck and he buried his face in the broad shoulder. His shoulders shook with sobs.

Evan cursed himself carrying the boy right past the living room entryway. He would have smacked himself on the forehead had his arms not been full of eighty-five pounds of ten-year-old boy. He had stopped for a second to readjust his load right outside the room where the Jones' lay dead. He'd given the boy a nice little view of his parent's broken and bloodied bodies lying in heaps upon the ground. Of what appeared to be gallons of blood covering everything. Sprayed across the walls and splattered on the ceiling. The most disgusting part of it all was the things the murderers had hung from the ceiling. Hung with white string, now stained red, were the fingers of Alfred's parents. It was truly a gruesome sight.

'_I'm such an idiot, how could I just let a little boy see all of that,' _Evan berated himself. Alfred was quickly taken away from the scene. He barely registered when he was carried out of the house and into the crisp autumn air. As soon as his feet touched the browning grass he doubled over and retched. All that came out was bile and some water. His throat burned and his body ached from the clenching muscles of his abdomen.

Weakness overcame him and he dropped to his knees, his fingers digging into the cool earth. (**Don't worry, he moved away from the contents of his stomach**). The large hand of the agent who found him rubbed comforting circles on his back while he sat and drew raspy breathes into his battered body. Blackness crept in upon his vision and Evan caught the boy just before he hit the grass.

Gathering the frail body into his arms Evan clambered into the passenger seat of his car. He nodded to his partner who pulled out of the drive and headed off towards the hospital.

He caught his partner occasionally sneaking glance at the boy in his arms. He was a large, bald, muscled man with a mustache and steely, slate colored eyes.

"I can't imagine what that boy went through. He'll never be the same as he was before," the statement startled Evan and he looked up to see Neil looking straight out into the darkening streets as he drove.

He didn't answer, he didn't know how too. The drive was short but tense. It was easy to tell just by looking at the boy that he was injured. Large patches of blue and purple blossomed across the showing bits of his skin. It was doubtful that those were the only injuries the boy had and Evan was doing his best to brace himself so as not to jostle him when the car drove over a particularly large bump or pothole.

**XXX Time Jump into the Hospital XXX**

The hospital was nearly dead. Only the occasional nurse, doctor, patient, or bored receptionist moved about or made any noise. Visiting ours over, there were no families with kids to fill the halls with chatter.

So when Evan and Neil carried the little Jones into the hospital they had to search to find a doctor. Alfred was quickly carted away to be examined and treated if necessary.

Evan paced in the room he and his partner had been told to wait in, stressed and more than a little annoyed that Neil was just sitting calmly in a chair, flipping through what appeared to be an erotica novel.

When he sighed for what must have been the millionth time, his partner finally closed his book and looked up.

"What the hell are you stressing out about?" Neil asked gruffly. "You're acting like you're that kid's dad or something, so what's got your panties in a bunch. It's not like you to get so emotionally attached. Honestly, you're kind of weirdin' me out."

The one 'weirdin' the other agent out snorted. "Sorry, I don't really know what it is about that kid. Maybe it's because I feel responsible for showing him that horrible crime scene and making his life worse than it already was."

"Yeah, that may be so, but I'm not so sure. Besides, that kid was pretty damaged, and since I doubt the parents did it before they died, I can only assume that it was their murderer who beat the poor kid."

Before Evan could reply, a graying doctor cleared his throat, gaining the partner's attention.

The man- Dr. Scott if his nametag was anything to go by- informed the men that the patient was now ready for visitors; however, he was still unconscious. Dr. Scott led the pair into a double hospital room where only one bed was occupied. The unused gurney hospital bed thing lay white and barren by the door while the other was situated near the window.

A small, golden blonde boy lay unconscious in the bed, his thin body draped with a faded blue blanket. Under the sterile lights of the hospital, the kid's skin appeared to be a sickening shade of green.

"His condition is one of the worst I've seen in a while," Dr. Scott's voice shattered the heavy silence in the room. "He's got multiple broken and fractured bones, a minor concussion, bruised lungs and he's suffering from severe malnutrition. How long was he left all alone like he was?"

Evan nearly choked when he heard the list of injuries the kid was suffering from. The way he'd been squirming around, there was no way Evan ever could have guessed… he was starting to panic a bit. What if his rough handling of the boy had made his injuries even worse?

His partner had obviously noticed the state he was in and quickly cut off his oncoming panic attack, "Dr. Scott, we can't release that information, but if you wouldn't mind telling us, what's the boy's name?"

"Ah, yes that… his name is Alfred F. Jones. He's ten years old, born in this very hospital." The man's eyes became unfocused as he thought back, "One of my good friends here helped birth him. I remember because he kept on for weeks, talking about the Jones' miracle baby!"

"What was so miraculous about it?" Neil asked flatly. What could be so special about a birth that a doctor who helped bring children into the world almost every day would rant about it for such a long time?

"Well, apparently, the mother wasn't doing too well so the doctors had to induce labor two months early. Even though he came out healthy pink and looking as though he had the normal nine months to mature – which was odd in and of itself – he wasn't breathing. In fact he didn't breathe for a full minute and everyone thought he was dead, or was going to be dead. However, as soon as a he was given to his mother – she had begged to hold him, even if he was dead – he opened his eyes and started screaming bloody murder."

"Still don't see what's so special about it," Neil muttered too quietly for the doctor to hear.

"So, where do you think he'll go now that his parents are gone?"

Evan turned to his partner and replied, "Probably to a relative I guess…"

That was what happened with most kids who lost their parents. If they had no relatives then they were sent to live in an orphanage or with a foster family until they were adopted. Sometimes they never were though and just stayed in the orphanage or their foster home until they were old enough to take on the world themselves. Not really an ideal situation, but it happened sometimes.

"Oh no, I doubt that. The only people we have listed as his emergency contacts are his parents and their neighbor," Dr. Scott broke in, glancing down at the clipboard in his arms. "The rest of the family is either dead or not on good terms with the parents. It's a shame really, for him to have to be in a constantly changing environment, especially when he's so young."

The man bowed his head for a moment before bidding the men a good night and walking out of the room. Evan stood by the hospital bed, looking down at the boy. Neil cleared his throat; he couldn't leave without his partner, who had no way of getting home.

"Come on, there's not much you can do for him now, we might as well leave," when he got no reaction he sighed, "fine, if you really want, I'll drive you back here tomorrow and let you visit him, but only if you leave now."

With one last glance at the prone form on the bed, Evan gathered himself and followed his partner out the door. The pair was almost to the front desk when suddenly, with a quick 'be right back' to his partner, Evan raced back down the hall.

"The hell is that idiot doing now?"

A few moments later, he came back, racing down the hall, past the front desk and out the doors. With another put upon sigh, Neil slowly followed.

**((***Page break to sing Banana Boat (Day-O) ***))**

"Evan you're home!" came the delighted cry from Marie Waters (nee Carlson). Evan's wife. She was beautiful and exotic, with her dark hair, green eyes and her mocha colored skin. She took away the agent's breath every time. The couple shared a brief kiss before Evan led his wife to the living room, seating her and himself on the couch.

Gripping his wife's hands Evan studied his wife's face, taking in her slightly concerned expression. With a deep breath, he began, "Honey… you know how we've been looking to adopt…" Marie nodded.

Ever since learning that her body was not fit to bear children, the couple had been looking into adopting a child. They just hadn't been able to find the right one as of yet though.

"Now I don't want you to get your hopes up, as I don't know if he has any relatives which he'll be sent to, but there's this little boy who's going to be in need of a really good home soon. His name is Alfred, and he's ten years old," Evan stopped for a moment to study Marie's face. She looked like she wanted to say something but held her tongue.

"You know about the recent string of serial murders don't you? I mean, it's all over the news so how could you not? Well, the parents of this little boy were the latest victims." Marie gasped.

He took out his phone and showed her the photo of Alfred he'd run back to get. She stared and stared and stared until his phone went dark before finally looking back up at her husband, signaling him to continue speaking.

"I only considered this at all because you're a child psychologist and this boy… he's going to need a lot of help to recover from what he went through." He said solemnly. "It's going to be hard – God knows it's going to be hard – but… I-I think we can do it."

Marie was silent; she closed her eyes while she contemplated. When her eyes opened there was a fiercely burning light in them. They sent shivers down Evan's spine and he knew, there was no chance that she'd let the boy end up anywhere other than with them.

"I want him."


	2. The call

**Hello again lovely readers, this is the second chapter of Hero in a Sweater Vest. I'm sorry for the long wait, but I did say that I couldn't promise I would update frequently, or even regularly.**

**Okay so I forgot to mention before but this is an AU, and Alfred and Arthur will probably be a little OOC. As in America will be a bit hmm, how to say this… shy… but…America-y… oh whatever you'll get the idea as the story progresses. And Iggy's going to be sort of a bada** at times. So yeah…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, if I did, the implied homosexual themes in it would be a lot more obvious… like the whole, Germany and Italy in bed together thing, yeah, well you'd get to see what led to them being in that position… \./**

**Mwa hahaha!**

**Anyhow… y'all flamers go to Wal-Mart and get a life, if they are all out, then just live there. My friends and I will have a fantabulous time making fun of you when we see you on **_**The**__**People of Wal-Mart... **_

**Except for you Calcifer, I love you; feel free to come and visit any time!**

**On with ****The Story ****– yeah, that's right, I frigging capitalized and underlined it MoThEr-EfFeRs… **

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"-fred, Alfred!"

"What?" Alfred grunted. He had been spacing out, chewing on the straw of his soda.

"Geeze, at least _try _to stay tuned into the conversation for more than a few seconds! I know that with your male teenage brain being so overloaded with hormones and angst you have the attention span of a goldfish, but try to pay attention," he glanced amusedly at his adoptive mother who was currently ranting about teenage boys and their fickle minds.

And at seventeen, Alfred was – on the outside at least – a stereotypical American teenager. Blond hair, deep blue eyes, tanned skin and a toned physique. He was about 5'7" and on the skinny side, (this was in part, due to the fact that apart for the almost week of not having any food, he didn't eat like a growing boy should for about the next two-three years after his parent's murder) but that really meant nothing to him. Especially since he could kick the butts of most of the boys at his school and they all knew it. He was referred too as being 'freaky strong', and that just made him laugh.

Marie stopped herself mid-rant and took a seat next to Alfred on the couch, he was glad she'd finally stopped her pacing. "Anyway, now that I have your attention, I wanted to ask you about how school was going. I haven't asked you that lately and frankly I have no idea what you're doing nowadays."

It was true, ever since he'd moved out of his adoptive families' house a month ago, there hadn't been many chats about how school was, or how life was going. He'd just been too busy with the move and school to really spend time with Evan and Marie. The couple had offered to help him move many times, however, he'd turned them down. Partly because it made him feel more independent to make the move by himself and partly because he didn't want the nosey couple to be going through his stuff as it was moved to and unpacked in his new home.

He'd apparently inherited the house from his actual grandparents who'd died before he'd even been born. Although why it'd taken so long for him to learn of it, he didn't know. Evan complained for a month about how unreliable the people who handled inheritance related affairs were. (**Y'all just shut your darn gob holes, I don't care if people can't live alone until they're eighteen, I want him to live alone so he freakin' will! **_**Capisce**_**?)**

"Hmm, school… oh yeah! That's the place where you get locked up inside for six hours a day and are forced to try to listen and pay attention to old people drone on and on about only minimally interesting subjects while being surrounded by angst-y kids, right? Yeah… it's been going well," Alfred finished with a smirk.

Marie shot him a playful glare before sighing. She shook her head and scooted closer to him. "That's nice and all, but you and I both know that that's not really what I'm asking about. So tell me, is there anyone who you've started going out with? Any cute girls or boys who've caught your eye? Someone who makes your face heat up, your palms sweat and your heart beat loudly?" Marie nudged him gently with her elbow wiggling her eyebrows.

Honestly, the woman was sometimes a lot less of a mother and more of a nosy and meddlesome friend. She had asked him dozens of times about his (non-existent) love life. She was desperate for him to develop a love life, wanting to be able to talk to him about his first love and heartbreak and all that. However her hopes had been dashed when he told her that though he did find people attractive, he had no intentions of getting into a romantic relationship with anyone. Still, Marie held out hope that there would be someone who would catch her baby's eye and make him happy.

Both her and Evan were completely accepting of homosexuals, and as he had no clue as to what sex he liked, (not having any experience with the whole dating and crushes thing) whenever Marie asked, she always made sure to ask about Alfred's relationship with both boys and girls. Personally, she hoped Alfred was gay or at least bi and leaning more towards men. She thought he and some other boy would make a cute pair and internally (and sometimes externally) squealed whenever she thought of Alfred and some boy being all lovey-dovey together.

(**Yes my friends, Marie Waters (nee Carlson) is, and always will be, a yaoi fangirl. Let us take a moment to think of all the wonderful shenanigans that can – and most likely will – occur because of this. BTW, if you have any particular 'shenanigans' you would like to take place, then just tell me! I may not use them, or maybe I will. I guess we'll just see now won't we?)**

"How many times have I told you, I'm not interested in anybody!"

Marie pouted, "You say that now, but soon enough, someone will interest you, and as _soon_ as they do, I want you to tell me." She gazed dreamily into space, her eyes twinkling, "I've always wanted to talk love with my baby…"

Alfred was about to comment when his phone buzzed in his pocket, drawing his attention. He withdrew it and brought it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Alfie, are you busy?" Evan's voice sounded in his ear.

"Nope, you need anything?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm going to need you to come down to the station for a little while," Evan sounded a bit uncertain.

"Sure yeah, I can do that. What time do you want me down there? Is there something the wrong? Has something happened?"

His adoptive father hesitated for a moment, trying to get the answers to all the questions straight. "If you can get down here in the next two or three hours that would be great. And well, it's just… never mind, I'll just talk to you when you get here."

"Okay, see you soon," Alfred said as he ended the call.

"What was that?" Marie asked, her head cocked to the side like a dog.

"Oh, Evan just wanted me to come down to the station for a little while, I don't know what for though," Alfred said with a shrug.

"Oh, okay. Well if you're going out anyway I want you to stop at the store on your way there. All the food you have is prepackaged and bad for you, so I want you to go to the store and pick up some fresh food. Here, I'll make you a list."

Alfred watched as she scrabbled around for a pen and some paper, crying out triumphantly when she found some. He smiled fondly at her as he watched her mutter as she added things to the list. His smile slowly faded however as he watched her add more and more items to the list until it took up an entire sheet of paper – front and back. He would be in the store for at least an hour and a half!

When Marie finally finished the shopping list she handed it to him along with some money saying 'you can keep whatever is left over. Have fun at the store sweetie.'

With a heavy sigh Alfred gathered his keys and jacket and headed out to his truck. After he was done shopping he would have to go down to the station, why did he get the feeling that it would be a long day?

..

..

..

**AN: All righty then, there's another chapter of Hero in a Sweater Vest, hope you liked it. Oh, if you have any ideas for things you want to happen, romantic or otherwise, then please let me know.**

**A special shout out to aphrodite931 who was the first reviewer, thank you!**

**One more thing, I know in the anime that America is actually a bit taller than England, but in this story I want him to be shorter than England and so he will be.**

**R&R please and thank you.**

**~MPangeaCT**


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